


Alexandria's Worst Witch

by BroadwayBaggins



Category: Mercy Street (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, F/M, Gen, Halloween AU, Magic AU, Witch AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroadwayBaggins/pseuds/BroadwayBaggins
Summary: Everyone in her family had a special talent...everyone except her, that is.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Alexandria's Worst Witch

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of Mercy Street, a pinch of The Worst Witch, a dash of Practical Magic and Hocus Pocus, a sprinkling of Harry Potter, brew under a full moon, and you get...this. Happy Halloween, Mercy Street babies!

The candle was taunting Emma.

She stared at it, willing her body to be still, her mind to quiet. “Please,” she murmured, reaching out for the magic around and within her. “Please, please work. Just this once.”

She stared at the wick, willing it to ignite.

At first, nothing happened. Then there was a tiny spark, which sputtered at first as Emma held her breath.

_Please._

Finally, the wick caught. The flame danced above the wick, brightening the dimness of her room. Emma sighed with relief, even allowing herself a smile. But her victory wasn’t complete yet, and so she reached down again, watching with delight as the candle gently lifted off the table, floating slowly upward…

“Emma!”

The sound of her sister’s voice broke Emma’s concentration. The candle dropped to the table, the wick snuffing itself out as it fell through the air. All of Emma’s hard work was reduced to nothing in just a few seconds. Her heart sank.

_Of course_.

The door to Emma’s room burst open, and Alice flounced in, all curls and ruffles and holding a small glass vial in her hand. She cast a bored glance around the room, her eyes falling on Emma’s spellbook open on the bed, at the candle now rolling across the floor. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything _important_ ,” she said with a smirk. “Though I doubt I was.”

Emma stood up, crossing to her bed and closing the book. “What is it, Alice?” she asked, not in the mood for her sister’s antics.

“Mama told me you’re going back to the hotel today.”

She fought the urge to sigh. “It’s a hospital now, Alice.”

Alice scowled. “Yes, I _know_ that, Emma. It doesn’t mean that I have to like it. Anyway, if you’re going, take this with you.” She held out the vial. “I brewed it special last night for Tom, if you see him.”

“Tom?” Emma asked, already distracted. 

“Yes, Emma, Tom! Tom Fairfax? I swear, I don’t know where your head is at today.” She took Emma’s hand firmly and placed the vial inside of it, curling Emma’s fingers around the glass. Emma peered at the iridescent purple liquid inside and said nothing. “That ought to cure whatever it is that ails him. You just give him that and see how much better he gets. It’ll be scores better than whatever those Yankees are giving him, I can assure you of that. Can you do that for me, Emma?” Her lips suddenly curled into a sneer. “Surely this is a simple enough task for you.”

Emma’s difficulties with magic were a constant source of shame for her family. Her mother and sister were masterful brewers of potions and elixirs. Her father could Charm just about anyone, with or without magic. Her brother Jimmy had an affinity for magical plants and a knack for nasty hexes. But Emma?

Emma struggled with the simplest of spells. Her potions were weak and ineffective, or worse, would curdle or boil or even explode before she could properly finish making them. There were still vivid green stains on the ceiling from one disastrous attempt when she was twelve. She couldn’t speak to animals like her grandmother had been able to, or make plants grow as her brother could. The only thing she’d managed to do was properly find a familiar, a little black-and-orange kitten that was currently sound asleep on Emma’s windowsill. As much as Emma loved her, Magnolia was more of a companion than an aid to her magic.

No, Emma was hopeless. And at twenty years old now, there wasn’t much hope that she would get any better. She was a disgrace, an embarrassment–and her siblings never let her forget it.

She sighed and gave the potion another wary look. A sickly sweet smell wafted up towards her nose. “I don’t know. What’s in it?”

“None of your business. Not that you’d understand anyway. You can’t even master a simple sleeping draft.”

“The doctors and nurses there know what they’re doing, Alice. Maybe we should leave it to them.”

“Everyone knows that Yankee magic is weak and useless. And their doctors? Don’t make me laugh. What makes you think those doctors know how to properly cure him? No, you’ll bring this to Tom. You’ll make sure he takes it. Because you’re a good sister, aren’t you, Emma?”

_A much better sister than a witch_ , were the words she did not say. A sister who was there to do Alice’s bidding, nothing more.

Emma tried one last time. “Why can’t you go? Wouldn’t it be nice to see Tom again?”

“No!” Alice cried out, startling them both and waking Magnolia, who mewed in distress. “No, I can’t. I can’t go there and look at what they’ve done to our beautiful hotel. And…I can’t see Tom now. Not until he’s better. I–I can’t. You give him the potion, and I’ll go see him after. I give you my word, Emma. Now please…won’t you take it to him?”

Alice smiled sweetly, and although Emma knew she didn’t mean it, she found herself nodding anyway.

“All right. I’ll do it.” She carefully tucked the vial in her pocket and gave her spellbook one last longing look. “I’ll go right away.”


End file.
